


The Seven Day Miracle Diet

by expecto_cosmos



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, FitzSimmons - Freeform, Fitzsimmons Secret Valentine, Maveth mention, Science Babies, alternating pov, coffee shop AU, dorks of shield, fitzsimmonssecretvalentine, implied TripSkye - Freeform, pod mention, shield au, shipper Skye, thefitzsimmonsnetwork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 01:01:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9795311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/expecto_cosmos/pseuds/expecto_cosmos
Summary: After one too many near-death experiences as a SHIELD agent, Jemma Simmons has translated her degrees in biochemistry into ownership of Perthshire’s newest bakery and coffee shop, serving the most inventive new concoctions - all gluten-free and sugar-free, of course.Leopold Fitz has come to Perthshire for a quiet place to think through a major decision - after years as a SHIELD agent, should he pack it all in and start a new life himself?When Fitz’s rented cottage turns out to be a little too quiet, he comes to Jemma’s shop for a change of scenery. Unfortunately, gluten and sugar are two of his favorite things - although Jemma Simmons might turn out to top them both.





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chylerlwest](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=chylerlwest).



> A coffee shop AU - or parallel U, if you’ll forgive my creative license with this prompt - written for chylerlwest as part of thefitzsimmonsnetwork’s Fitzsimmons Secret Valentine.
> 
> S4 has been giving me a lot of “what if Fitzsimmons left SHIELD” feelings, so I ran with it.
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr at expecto-cosmos!

DAY 1

Jemma Simmons remembered faces. In the six months since she had opened The Bus, her new cafe in the peaceful town of Perthshire, she had amassed quite a few regulars - and she was keen to keep it that way.

There was May, the stoic and unflappable woman who showed her appreciation for Jemma’s extra caffeinated coffee only through a sideways smile and small nod as she arrived each morning at precisely 8:05 AM. There was Elena, who downed her espresso in one gulp with a simple “Gracias” before seemingly flying out the door. There was Trip, the strapping police officer who ate far too many blueberry scones while chatting up a storm with whoever was near (especially, Jemma had noticed lately, her young employee, Skye). Jemma wished he would just make a move - even though her baked goods were gluten and sugar free didn’t mean Trip should be eating half a dozen of them just to get a few minutes with Skye.

But this summer evening, Jemma was surprised to see a new face huddled over a laptop at a small table near the bay window. Perthshire itself didn’t get many visitors, let alone her small cafe. She watched him from behind the counter, her curiosity growing. He had been sitting there for nearly an hour, clearly agonizing over his computer, but he didn’t seem to have written a single word.

As Jemma continued watching, the man brought his hands to his neck, turning his head this way and that. Jemma let her gaze linger as his stretching tightened his shirt against his arms. Very…nice arms, in fact.

With a jolt, Jemma caught herself. Clearly she had been spending too much time locked away in the kitchen. Shaking her head, she grabbed a pot of hot water and walked over to the stranger, taking a deep breath and plastering on her Friendly Owner Smile. “More tea?” she asked as she reached his side.

He whipped his head up to look at her, and Jemma thought she saw a hint of panic in his eyes. Her grin faltered. “Sorry about that,” she laughed. “You’re clearly quite deep in your work.”

The man sighed and turned his computer screen to face Jemma, who saw that her suspicion was correct - his cursor blinked in the subject line of an email, of which he hadn’t written a word.

“Ah, yes,” Jemma said as she poured him a fresh cup. “Creative block. I’ve gotten that in the kitchen plenty of times myself.”

“This your place?” the man asked, looking around. “It’s nice. Thought it would help me think a little more than the cottage I’m renting. It’s so quiet there I swear I can hear the blood running through my own veins.”

At those words, Jemma’s eyes drifted back to his arms before she quickly caught herself yet again. “Well, I’m sorry it’s not working. Different music, maybe?”

“Only if different music can miraculously make me know what I want to say in this email,” he grumbled.

“How about a Cosmos bar? Some protein to give you energy.”

“What is it?” he asked.

“I’ll show you!” Jemma chirped, turning to walk back to the counter. To her delight, she felt him stand and follow after. She pulled a Cosmos bar out of the display with exaggerated fanfare and held it out to him on a plate. “Oat bran, wheat germ, dates, apricots, and a touch of my homemade almond butter.”

He looked at her offering for a beat, his face inscrutable. “Sounds great.”

—————————————

Fitz - for that was his name, simply “Fitz” - didn’t immediately return to his table. In fact, he didn’t return to his table for the rest of the night, choosing instead to sit at a barstool at the counter.

“How do you work through it? When you have…creative block?” Fitz asked Jemma.

“I just use my little taste tester!” Jemma beamed, snagging Skye as she walked by. “She tries everything I make before I sell it.”

Skye rolled her eyes in fake annoyance, but Fitz saw her lean into the one-armed hug Jemma was giving her. “Yeah, and then I tell her to put more fattening stuff in everything and she ignores me and sells it anyway.”

Jemma giggled and pushed Skye away lightly. “Get back to work, you.” She turned back to Fitz. “Maybe you just need your own sounding board.” She raised her eyebrows purposefully.

Fitz sighed - why not? 

It all came out in a rush:

“Okay, so I’m trying to write this…thing. This…guy. He works this really hectic job and it’s getting to be a lot. A couple of years ago he had…an accident. He was nearly killed. He was in a coma for nine days. When he came back, he was messed up about it for a long time. Still is, really. And then even more stuff happened. Another one of his friends betrayed him. Two of his best friends left, and he can’t even talk to them anymore. He’s not even sure if they’re alive. Another friend died. So now he’s not sure what to do. He loves his job. Well, he did. He likes it. And he knows it’s important. I’m…he’s…not sure what happens next.”

“In a coma for nine days?” Jemma asked, her brow furrowing. “But…in the story, of course.”

Fitz nodded, avoiding her eyes. “Right. In the story.”

“Well, here’s how I see it,” Jemma said decisively. “He leaves. Or he stays. Or he figures out a way to go from liking his job back to loving it.”

Fitz threw his hands up into the air. “I don’t even know how that would happen.”

“Before his accident, what did he love about it?”

“He had a family,” Fitz blurted out again. (He really had to stop doing that).

Jemma’s face softened. “That’s it, then. He just needs to find what’s important to him again.” She leaned forward on her own barstool across the counter.

“Ahem,” came a voice from the back of the store. Fitz and Jemma both jumped and sat upright.

Skye emerged, slinging her purse over one shoulder. “Everything’s cleaned and prepped for tomorrow. I’m going to head out now, if that’s okay.”

Jemma stared at her for a second in confusion. “What?”

Skye laughed. “Jem, it’s 9:00. Thanks for all the help closing up, by the way.”

Jemma felt herself blush, and was pleased to see that Fitz did as well as he scrambled off the bar stool.

“Sorry about that,” he said, returning to his table and fumbling to put his laptop back in its bag. “Gotta hate those customers that overstay their welcome, right?”

“Oh, I don’t know about hate,” said Skye with a sly look at Jemma, who glared at her in response. Luckily, Fitz’s back was turned. He gathered up all his things and turned back to the two women, looking only at Jemma.

“Erm…thanks,” Fitz said weakly. “For the tea and…everything else. Bye, Jemma.”

Jemma smiled. “Bye, Fitz.”

“Bye, Fitz,” said Skye pointedly as Fitz was halfway out the door. He turned back with a dazed look on his face, looking at Skye as if he had forgotten she was there.

“Oh-right-bye then.”

It wasn’t until Fitz had departed with a wave - and Jemma had dutifully avoided the next Look that Skye was giving her - that Jemma realized Fitz had left his uneaten Cosmos bar on the counter.


	2. Day 2

DAY 2

Fitz hadn’t planned on coming back to the cafe for a second day. Then again, he hadn’t planned for yesterday’s one hour change of scenery to turn into nearly four hours spent venting out all of his fears to a beautiful stranger.

And he certainly had no plans to tell that beautiful stranger that he was in fact the type of guy who could eat a full bag of Cheetos and call it his dinner. Not when she was so eager to share her life’s work and greatest passion.

Fitz’s eyes darted between the damned blinking cursor on his laptop screen and the plate just to his right, not sure which was less appealing.

When Jemma had asked him, yet again in that cheerful voice, if he wanted to try a Cosmos bar (since he “hadn’t gotten the chance last night,”) he couldn’t possibly say no. Of course, that probably meant he had to eat it this time, especially since she had insisted on giving it to him for free.

Seeing that Jemma was busy with a customer, Fitz held the bar up for inspection. Were those…seeds? With another god-I-hope-this-looks-natural glance back at Jemma, who hadn’t moved, he surreptitiously wrapped it up in his napkin and buried it deep in his laptop bag, making sure to leave a few crumbs behind for appearances.

On Jemma’s next trip around the small cafe - she sure seemed to do that a lot - she eyed his empty plate with a bright smile. “Enjoyed it then, did ya?”

Fitz smiled tightly. “Mmhmm.”

She reached for his plate. “Another?”

“Oh god no!” he blurted out without thinking.

Jemma froze mid-reach, her hand brushing against Fitz’s, poised over the keys. He snatched them back immediately and avoided her narrowing eyes.

“So you didn’t enjoy it, I take it.” There was a new bite to her voice.

Fitz fumbled for words. “Uh-you know-it’s just-I’m more of a-like-I don’t know-if it had chocolate or-like-anything you would find in a normal shop-“

“A _normal_ shop?” Jemma repeated in disbelief. “I’m sure I left everything I knew behind, moved to Scotland, and became a successful and innovative businesswoman to run a _normal_ shop.”

She whipped around and glared at Skye, who was trying - unsuccessfully - to act like she wasn’t eavesdropping from her spot behind the counter. “And _this_ , Skye, is why I didn’t want to install WiFi in here. Because then strange men think they can hang about all day, order one item, and proceed to complain about it!”

Jemma took the plate off Fitz’s table. “The bar is 2.95.”


	3. Day 3

DAY 3

With a yawn, Skye lifted up the gate blocking the front door of the cafe. In such a small town, no one ever came in right as the shop opened, but Jemma was nothing if not a stickler for the rules. Skye unlocked the door and turned to walk back to the counter, hoping to sneak a few extra minutes of sleep before greeting the morning regulars.

“You’re open, then?”

Skye shrieked and leapt into a defensive stance.

“Whoa!” the customer said, stopping halfway through the door. “Nice reflexes, though.”

Skye sighed with relief when she recognized the sandy haired Scot who had come in the past two days - the one Jemma swore she definitely hadn’t been flirting with Remembering Jemma’s face, flushed with anger and embarrassment as Fitz slunk out of the shop the previous afternoon, Skye didn’t quite drop her guard entirely.

“Didn’t think we’d see you here after yesterday’s-“   
“Fiasco?” Fitz offered with a wry chuckle.

“I was going to say total fuck-up, but sure.”

“Yeah, about that…” Fitz turned pink. “Is Jemma here? I owe her an apology.”

Skye returned to the counter, allowing Fitz to enter and take the same table he had favored the past two days. “Jemma’s the owner,” she said. “She’s actually not here that often. Too busy dreaming up the next great science-y biscuit or ways to make healthy food fun or whatever. She usually bakes all night. I was surprised she even came in yesterday.” Skye paused and appraised Fitz. “Well…maybe not that surprised.”

Fitz wandered over to the counter and eyed the display of baked goods. “You sure she won’t be in?”

“Could you blame her?” came a steely voice from the back of the shop.

Fitz looked up to see Jemma leaning against the very edge of the counter. “Jemma!” He coughed. “Um………hi.”

Skye rolled her eyes and moved from her space in between them, attempting to make herself scarce.

Jemma didn’t move. “You came back,” she said tonelessly.

Fitz didn’t quite look at Jemma. “Yeah. See, I woke up this morning really craving wheat. Or flax. Or anything with the word ‘germ’ in it, really. As you do.”

Despite herself, Jemma smirked.

Fitz gave her a crooked smile. “I didn’t mean to insult you. I’m sorry.”

Jemma wandered behind the counter, moving closer to where Fitz was positioned. “Hmm…I don’t know.” But there was a twinkle in her eye.

“I mean it. You’re brilliant. Your food should be the only food that anyone ever eats. In fact, how could I have ever started my day _without_ one of those apricot…butter…things.”

“Don’t forget the germ,” Jemma reminded him.

“Ah yes, of course. How could I forget the germ.” Fitz sat down on a barstool as Jemma reached him. She half-glared at him from across the counter, before her face softened.

“How about tea instead?” she proposed.

Just as Fitz was about to respond with an enthusiastic “yes,” the front door swung open to reveal Officer Triplett, who almost had to duck in order to make his way safely inside. Right behind him was Elena, who zipped in front of Trip without him even noticing - being that his eyes had gone straight to Skye, of course. Behind them, right on time, was May.

As they approached the counter, Fitz saw his window of opportunity closing. “You were right, Jemma,” he said quickly, gesturing to her devoted regulars. “This isn’t a normal shop.”

“Nothing in my life has been quite normal.” Jemma smiled at him, her eyes twinkling even brighter as she threw on an apron in preparation.

“How did you end up here anyway?” Fitz asked before her attention was completely taken away.

Jemma’s fingers fumbled on the apron’s tie, and her eyes dropped to the floor.

“Sorry,” Fitz apologized gain. “Is that what you meant by ‘leaving everything behind?’” 

“Yes,” Jemma said after a moment’s hesitation. “But maybe that’s not what I did. Maybe I just…moved forward. To something new.”

She smiled at him, and in that moment, in that small smile, Fitz knew he was looking at something magnificent.


	4. Day 4

DAY 4

Jemma looked at her phone for what felt like the millionth time - 3:16 AM. With a heavy sigh, she hoisted herself out of bed, resigned to her sleepless night.

As usually happened in these instances, Jemma found herself in the kitchen, baking equipment at the ready. Barely thinking, she threw ingredient after ingredient into a bowl, stopping only to dig into the very back of her pantry for an ingredient she hadn’t touched in ages. Before she knew what she had done, a perfectly shaped flourless chocolate cake sat before her.

Well, it certainly couldn’t hurt to make a few more, just for a test run at the shop. She could think of at least one customer who would buy it.

—————————————

Fitz knew he should shut off his laptop and try to get some sleep. He still hadn’t written a word of the email, choosing instead to Google random names. And if one of those random names happened to be Jemma Simmons, then, well…

Fitz stared in disbelief at the profile of Jemma he had found from a periodical in Sheffield. Two PhDs by the age of 17…offers from the top research facilities and government agencies…three years spent working for SHIELD…what on Earth was she doing running a small cafe in the middle of nowhere?

A partial answer came in an offhand remark tucked away in the middle of the article. Shortly after her 28th birthday, following a work-related incident that required over six months of recovery time, Simmons left SHIELD to pursue new avenues.

Fitz felt a wave of compassion. Six months of recovery - he certainly knew what that was like. He couldn’t help but be struck by all the similarities in their stories. Young geniuses forever changed by personal tragedy. They had even worked for SHIELD at the same time, but had never crossed paths.

Fitz shook his head rapidly and looked at the time - 3:16 AM. He closed his laptop and attempted to get comfortable in bed. But as usual, the cottage was far too quiet. He spent the rest of the night getting carried away by a fantasy - one of soulmates and near misses and even the bloody cosmos.


	5. Day 5

DAY 5

“What did you do before opening the shop?” 

Fitz silently cursed himself for the faint blush he could feel creeping up his neck. It wasn’t as if he could come right out and say, I searched your name in the middle of the night and found out you worked for SHIELD and had some terrible accident, and by the way, did you know that something shockingly similar happened to me just a year before that?

To his relief, Jemma didn’t seem suspicious. Instead, she turned towards the bay window and closed her eyes, her face awash in the sunlight. She spoke without opening her eyes.

“Well, I have degrees in biochemistry, so I worked…uh, in government for a bit. Over in the states.”

Fitz cleared his throat and tried to sound nonchalant. “No kidding. Did the same myself, actually. Up until…recently.”

“A writer, working for the government?” Jemma looked at him then, surprised. 

“Right,” Fitz said. “That’s what you think I do.”

Jemma gestured at his laptop, which he hadn’t even bothered opening yet today. “I thought you had creative block.”

“Block, yes. Creative, no.” Fitz shifted uncomfortably, breaking her gaze, but decided to press on. “I’m trying to figure out how to quit my job. Or if I even want to quit my job. Or what I would even do if I did quit my job.”

Fitz sighed, still not meeting Jemma’s eyes. “I’m not writing a story, Jemma. All that stuff that I told you about that first day - that happened to me. I’m not just not sure how to talk about it yet…I haven’t been great with words for a while now.”

“In a coma for nine days!” Jemma said with a gasp. “I knew that sounded familiar!”

Jemma reached out and took his hand. “I was stationed at the Sandbox. We all heard about it. The brave agent who plummeted into the sea.”

Fitz gripped Jemma’s hand and gaped for words. Of all times to be speechless, this was not ideal.

“You don’t seem surprised,” Jemma said. 

“You worked for SHIELD,” Fitz said at the same time.

“Yes.” 

Jemma gestured around the shop with her free hand. “I might not be the best one to give you advice, actually. A career change might be in order when you have one too many near-death experiences. It was for me.”

“Near-death?” Fitz whispered.

“Well.” Jemma gripped his hand even tighter. “I was never in a coma. But I wasn’t exactly…here.”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Fitz reassured her, now holding her hand in both of his. 

Jemma smiled gratefully and turned towards the sun again. “Someday, maybe.”

Fitz couldn’t help but grin broadly at that. “Yeah. Someday.”

Jemma leaned forward suddenly, her face serious. “You have to do one thing, though.”

“Anything,” Fitz said immediately.

“If you leave - and I certainly couldn’t blame you - you can’t do it in an email. You have to go back and tell them in person. Disappearing without a trace doesn’t go over very well at SHIELD, trust me.”

“Says the girl who fled to an entirely different country,” Fitz joked, relieved to see that Jemma smiled in response. “I thought the English and the Scottish were supposed to be bitter rivals.”

Jemma tilted her head and looked him square in the eye. “Well, I wouldn’t be so sure. I know of a few good things that have come from Scotland.”


	6. Day 6

DAY 6

“Jemmaaaaaa!”

Jemma ducked behind the counter to hide her smirk.

“You cannot shove chocolate cakes on me all day yesterday and then have nothing for me today. I have gotten used to a certain lifestyle here.

“A lifestyle of gluttony?” Jemma teased. “How dare you blame me for that! I shudder to think of the processed junk that must be filling up your cottage.”

“What, you want to feed me there instead?”

The words slipped out of Fitz’s mouth without a thought. Their eyes met for a charged moment.

“Um,” Fitz fumbled again, dropping his eyes to his cup of tea. “Sorry, I meant-“

Jemma interrupted. “Well, if you say there’s no inspiration there, how could I ever give you what we both deserve?”

Fitz, in the process of taking a sip of tea, choked. He had spent the entire night trying to interpret her words about “good things from Scotland.” But now there was no misinterpreting _those_ words…was there?

To his relief, Fitz was saved by a customer picking up a bulk order of coffee beans. While Jemma was distracted, he wracked his brain, trying to figure out how to say this next part.

When she returned, he dove in. “The cottage, uh, isn’t so bad. In fact-“ Fitz hesitated. “I was thinking of renting it for another week. It’s available, I checked. I think it’s helping me figure some stuff out.”

“Oh, you mean the cottage you hardly spend any time in?” Skye teased as she passed behind Fitz, who jumped. He turned towards her to protest, but she had already turned her attention to Officer Triplett, who was walking through the door of the shop. When Fitz turned back, he noticed with a small smile that Jemma was blushing.

“Well, I guess if you stay I will have to make more of those cakes then,” she said.

“Aha, my plan is working.” Fitz smiled.

For a stretch, Jemma and Fitz worked in silence, her tidying up behind the counter and him browsing through some of his old gadget designs on his computer. Every once in a while, Fitz would turn his screen to show Jemma something - a cool bit of tech, specs for future designs. Each time, she would smile politely before turning away. Finally, as Fitz was turning his screen yet again, she stopped him.

“Fitz, don’t you realize? Don’t you see how excited you are about this stuff?”

Fitz faltered. “Well, yeah, but-“

“Look.” Jemma said, sounding frustrated. “When I left, I agonized over it just as you are. For a week, I was convinced that I would just leave the field, get an assignment to somewhere safe. But there’s no way to be a 9 to 5 SHIELD agent. It’s who we are. Even now. It’s been less than a year and I’m already restless. I think it would be even worse for you.”

Fitz’s heart leapt. “You could come back.”

“I’ve thought about it,” Jemma said, wringing her hands. “I have, I just - by the end, they didn’t really need me. Who’s to say you would now?”

Fitz had been so focused on Jemma’s words (“who’s to say _you_ would”) that he had barely registered her emerging from behind the counter to stand right next to his barstool. She stopped close to him, her cheeks flushed. Fitz was slightly lower than her in this position, and he found himself zooming in on, of all things, her eyelashes. He could swear there was a hint of batter residue on her left eye. Time seemed to slow down. With one simple move he could reach up and brush it away…

But as he reached out his hand, it shook so rapidly that it snagged a display of mugs just to his left. Just as time had seemed to move in slow motion just a second ago, suddenly it sped up. To his horror, the entire display came crashing down, sending shards of the ceramic mugs flying around the shop.

There was a collective shriek in the shop, and Fitz leapt up immediately, looking around to see if anyone was hurt. Luckily, the mugs had fallen in the opposite direction of most of the customers. That hadn’t stopped Officer Triplett from throwing his entire body over Skye as a shield, however. Fitz felt ashamed as he noticed the grateful look Skye gave Trip. He had been responsible, and he hadn’t even moved quickly enough to shield Jemma.

As Jemma rushed to get a broom, Fitz floundered. How could they be talking about going back to SHIELD, putting themselves in harm’s way, facing danger every day, when Fitz couldn’t even protect her from his own clumsiness?

Fitz squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the blood rush to his head. He was damaged, permanently. Jemma deserved better, and so did SHIELD. Nearly tripping in his urgency to flee, Fitz gathered up his belongings and ran out the door. As the door’s chimes tinkled behind him, he thought he heard Jemma call his name.


	7. Day 7

DAY 7

By midday, Jemma had begun to fidget more and more. Fitz had been coming in earlier and earlier each day that week, but it was past 1:00 and there was no sign of him. She had been able to distract herself with other customers up until now, but once the lunch rush died down she was left with only her doubts to dwell on.

By 3:00, Jemma had had enough. Gathering up a pot of tea and some assorted goodies, she said to Skye, “I’m going to…pop out for a bit.” She ignored Skye’s Look for what felt like the millionth time this week.

—————————————

_Knock knock._

The door swung open to reveal Fitz, hair rumpled, with a pillow crease in his cheek. He looked at her with - dare she think it? - happy surprise. And a touch of embarrassment, of course.

“Special delivery?” she said tentatively, holding up the teapot. 

Fitz stepped back to let Jemma into the cottage. She took in the sitting room with a gasp. Light fell through the bay windows, highlighting perfect hardwood floors, antique finishes, and an overstuffed couch. Perfect for snuggling, she thought.

“This is the place that gives you ‘no inspiration?’” Jemma said in disbelief as she wandered towards the kitchen. “There’s even a breakfast nook!”

“That’s your criteria for inspiration?” Fitz asked.

Jemma put her supplies on the kitchen counter and turned around to look at Fitz. “It’s certainly a start.”

Neither of them spoke for a moment - too long of a moment -

“Look, I’m really-“

“Why did you-“

They both laughed. “You first,” Jemma said.

“Okay.” Fitz fidgeted, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry about yesterday, I was a fool and a klutz and I keep having to apologize to you for putting my foot in my mouth again and again or completely messing up your shop. I can’t quite seem to get anything right.”

“Do you know how many things I’ve broken in that shop?” Jemma laughed. 

“Do you know how many things I’ve broken, period?” Fitz retorted.

Jemma’s eyes softened, and she took a step towards him. “Fitz. I’m sure that’s not true. Just yesterday you showed me everything you’ve built, everything you could keep building!”

Fitz ducked his head. “I dunno. I don’t know if I can, it’s like too much has been missing for too long. That was actually the first time my hand shook the whole time I’ve been away.”

Jemma flushed. “Well, maybe you were nervous.”

“Yeah, but I hadn’t been nervous since I left. Sitting in your shop, it’s like a weight was lifted off just being away from all of that.”

“Maybe it wasn’t from being away.” Jemma took another step towards Fitz. And then another. “Maybe it was my shop. Or…something else.”

Fitz and Jemma eyed each other from across the small sitting room. The sunlight fell through the windows and across their faces; it seemed to charge the air even more than it already was. 

Fitz took a deep breath.

“You were right, by the way. When you said “he” had to find what was important. SHIELD. This cottage. I think I would have liked it better…if you had been here. Or there. It would have been better. It could be better.”

Before she could overthink his words, Jemma surged forward and kissed him. _Really_ kissed him. With hardly any pause, she felt Fitz kiss her back. _Really_ kiss her. Fitz’s hands flew up to Jemma’s waist, and she leaned into his grasp, tugging him backwards until she hit the wall behind her.

Fitz broke the kiss, but rested his forehead against hers, letting out a long exhale. Jemma suppressed a giggle as she brought her hands up around his neck.

“Does this mean I don’t have to tip anymore?” Fitz asked, his voice strained but teasing.

At that, and at the slightly dazed look on Fitz’s face, Jemma let her laughter out and leaned in for another long, tender kiss. “Oh, I’m sure we can figure out some other way to satisfy your sweet tooth.”

“And where will that happen?” Fitz asked, his voice heavy with meaning. Jemma’s head swam with possibilities - for tonight, for tomorrow, and for the times to come.

“Right here.” Jemma kissed him again. “Right now. And then…we’ll figure it out. Together.”

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of room here for a follow up fic! Follow me on Tumblr at expecto-cosmos and let me know if I should write it!


End file.
